


Star Light, Star Bright

by infinitestarsintheskye



Series: A Series of Stars [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Happy Birthday Jemma Simmons!, We Had Time, tiny baby alya fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:15:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26407831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinitestarsintheskye/pseuds/infinitestarsintheskye
Summary: Jemma has some trouble getting a one week old Alya to sleep. Luckily a memory from her childhood acts as a spark of inspiration.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Series: A Series of Stars [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1919407
Comments: 16
Kudos: 45





	Star Light, Star Bright

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday Jemma Simmons! In honour of her birthday, I have continued with the now, miniature series of FitzSimmons with tiny baby Alya bc the mental image of them with tiny baby Alya is enough to add endless years onto my life.(@ Marvel I would watch the shit out of a miniseries of FitzSimmons in space trying to figure out time travel whilst looking after baby Alya, JUST SAYING) So please enjoy Jemma with little tiny newborn baby Alya in honour of best fictional biochemist we know!

Jemma could not ever remember being this tired. She had survived Hydra, a desert planet and the deepest depths of space, but none of it compared to the exhaustion that came with a one week old baby. No matter what she did, Alya would not stop bawling. It had been going on for so long, Jemma rather felt like crying herself. She loved her daughter with everything that she was, and to see her so upset just tore her heart into shreds. She and Fitz must have read every single baby book Enoch could get his hands on over the past few months, and yet Jemma still felt wildly unprepared for the task ahead of her, for the task of raising and nurturing this most perfect little human. Jemma took in a deep breath and went through her list for the hundredth time. Alya wasn’t hungry, she didn’t need changed, she had no interest in her dummy, she didn’t have wind, Jemma had been bouncing her and rubbing her back for what felt like hours now. The only thing it could possibly be was that she was overtired. Jemma sat on the edge of the bed, hugging Alya to her, her hand still rubbing up and down her back in an attempt to soothe her. 

For the first few days of her life, Alya seemed to take entirely after her father, eating and sleeping to her little heart’s content. Jemma and Fitz had been tired of course, but they had expected a lot more fuss than this. But then they had made the what seemed to be, fatal mistake of trying to get Alya onto a more regimented sleeping pattern, which she was now actively and stubbornly protesting with every gasp and scream from her tiny lungs. Fitz seemed to have some kind of magic touch with her, and she always diligently fell asleep in his arms. Jemma closed her eyes and tried to think what it was that Fitz did, but it was hard to even think when Alya was crying so loudly at her shoulder. He was in the lab with Enoch for the first time since Alya was born, Enoch had had a major breakthrough in their absence, and she didn’t want to disturb him. She wanted to know she could do this by herself. She felt tears sting at her eyes, and she tried to push them back. She was just so tired, and her heart wrenched with every single bawl that came from Alya’s mouth. Jemma took a shuddering breath in through her nose and out through her mouth, trying to calm herself down, to clear her mind enough to just think for a moment. It took a second, but she was able to conjure an image of Fitz with Alya in his arms. Even the thought of them together made Jemma’s heart feel like it was about to burst. Though he would probably never admit it to anyone outside this plane, Fitz had taken to singing gently to Alya. He sang everything from nursery rhymes, ones that Jemma recognised, and some that must be Scottish because his accent got thicker and she only understood about half of what he was crooning, to songs that he’d grown up listening to or he’d heard in the passing. He didn’t ever belt them, just sang softly down to Alya, watching her identical eyes staring back up at him. The first time Jemma had caught him doing so, he’d turned red and stopped, but Jemma had urged him to continue. Alya clearly loved it when he sang to her. She always stopped and listened. 

Unbidden to Jemma, a memory floated to the surface of her subconscious, one that had been buried deep in her brain over the years, but now rose to perfect relevance. She was six years old or so, maybe younger, lying in the back garden of her childhood home on a soft checkered blanket with her father, staring up at the night sky which was clear and bright, speckled with stars. Her father’s voice came to her clearly and melodically, reaching out across the years, across time and space. 

“Star light, star bright, 

The first star I see tonight;

I wish I may, I wish I might,

Have the wish I wish tonight.”

Her six year old self giggled and joined in with his song as he repeated it again. In the present, Jemma felt a wave of calm and peace wash over her. Of course, she thought. The perfect song for the little star she held in her arms. She brought Alya down off of her shoulder, and cradled her gently in her arms. 

“You like it when Daddy sings to you, don’t you sweetheart?” Jemma breathed quietly, beginning to rock back and forth softly. 

“Well Mummy’s going to try.” She continued, her thumb rubbing back and forth gently on Alya’s blankets. 

Jemma took a deep breath in and began. 

“Star light, star bright, 

The first star I see tonight;

I wish I may, I wish I might,

Have the wish I wish tonight.”

Her voice was soft and gentle, but the effect on Alya seemed to be almost instantaneous. Her cries seemed to soften, and Jemma continued, singing the verse over and over again, watching as Alya was soothed in her arms. She watched with a smile as Alya’s red blotchy face seemed to relax, her cries stopping all together, and eventually her eyes began lolling in her head, right on the precipice of sleep. As she felt her daughter get heavier with sleep, Jemma felt tears inexplicably forming in her eyes again, but she powered on, singing softly until Alya was fully asleep in her arms. Jemma finished out her last rendition of her lullaby, and got up carefully, walking over to where Alya’s bassinet was placed by her and Fitz’s bed. Jemma managed to successfully transfer Alya into the little bassinet, with only a small little fuss, without waking her. Letting out a deep sigh, Jemma straightened up, and paused for a moment, staring down at her daughter. The redness was still fading from her face, but Jemma couldn’t help the jolt in her heart that happened every single time she looked at her. She was the most perfect combination of the two of them, but she saw so much of Fitz in her, which made her heart very happy. Alya was the most perfect thing she’d ever seen. She’d known as much from the moment she’d first been placed on her chest. Even thinking about that day brought tears to her eyes. How on earth could it have only been a week ago? It felt as if she had always existed, was always meant to exist, like Alya had been a part of them always. Perhaps some things are inevitable, Jemma thought with a watery smile as she gazed down at Alya, watching as her little chest rose and fell in sleep. She wiped a tear that had disobeyed her, and rolled down her face, and turned, and was surprised to see Fitz leaning against the doorway, so much so, she jumped at the sight of him. 

“How long have you been there?” She whispered, making her way gently over to him. 

“Long enough.” He smiled.

“You have a good voice. Why haven’t I heard it before?” 

“Never had such an important cause.” Jemma smiled, reaching out and taking his hand in hers. 

“I think Alya may grow up to be a bit musical.” She said softly, her eyes finding the soft white of the bassinet. 

“Maybe. I think she just likes our voices. She’s heard enough of them over the past nine months.” Fitz countered, pulling softly on Jemma’s hand and tucking her gently into his side.

“Perhaps.” Jemma laughed. 

“She’s perfect, no matter what it is, even when she does scream relentlessly before finally settling down to sleep.” She continued with a yawn. 

“Take a nap Jemma. You’ve been with her all day. I’ll make some dinner, but just, close your eyes for a moment. I’ll wake you when it’s ready.” Fitz said softly, pressing a kiss onto her forehead. 

Jemma didn’t even have it in her to protest. She just nodded, letting Fitz’s hand slip out of her own and walking towards the bed. As she lay down, she gently tugged Alya’s bassinet closer to her, getting one last look at her most perfect little face before closing her eyes, and succumbing almost immediately to sleep. Her dreams were filled with images of her father, and Fitz and shooting stars, and as she looked down, she realised she’d been cradling Alya in her arms the whole time. She awoke gently, feeling Fitz’s hand on her shoulder, telling her that dinner was ready. Jemma stretched before standing up, and even though she knew she wouldn’t be going far and it would not be for long, and she’d see and hear every tiny little snuffle through the baby monitor that Fitz had souped up, she hated leaving her baby all the same. She leaned over the bassinet and pressed a soft kiss to the tuft of downy blonde hair on Alya’s head. She really was the most perfect little star in any fathomable galaxy.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm honestly just so soft for the mental image of both Jemma and Fitz singing softly to Alya. Hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Skye :)


End file.
